Lyric The Fair

Loneliness Abound

No sooner had she realized that the plume of smoke belonged to the homestead she inhabited, than Lyric had dashed from her room, throwing a verbal excuse at a passing servant, and flying to the stables. She had effortlessly thrown herself onto the back of one horse and burst through the doors, galloping full speed with urgency. Now, she was only moments from home, having cut through the trees and forest instead of taking the road. The bitter smell of burning wood filled her nose as she and the horse came sliding onto the property.

Lyric could do nothing more than gasp. Bodies of men littered the usually clean and tidy yard. Flames ran across the fields, burning anything of use and leaving the ground black with ash. The house was nowhere to be seen, replaced only by a pile of smoldering rubble. A few stone columns stood weakly, reaching for the sky with feeble hands. Even the stables had fallen, the flames had eaten every bit of the wooden structures. No one moved. All that should be full of life was littered with the scent of death.

Lyric's eyes ran over the area, searching for anyone that could still be alive. A choking cough reached her ears and shattered her shock just as her eyes fell on the large silhouette on the ground. An axe protruded from its chest, moving and shaking with each desperate breath. Though he usually appeared as tall and strong as the ancient trees, Val lay looking small and helpless.

Lyric slid from her horse and ran to the sputtering man. Falling to her knees beside him, a moan of shock and pain left her throat. Blood had poured from the axe wound, enough to soak his garments twice over but he was somehow still breathing. "Ah....my songbird. Seems as though you've..made enemies." Val choked, blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth as his body shuttered.

"Val....I..."

"Hush. Listen to me. Sigil has a daughter..."

"Rissa the Bloodless." Lyric interrupted, earning herself a scowl from the dying man. That was far too like him, to scowl as he drew his last breaths.

"Y...yes. She was here." Val's chest heaved as blood shot from his mouth, the cough carrying the droplets to Lyric's clean pale skin. "I...sent her to..Broadshire. You...y...m.." Lyric took his hand and squeezed him. The man's breathing quickened the struggle between life and death spreading across his face. After a few moments, he calmed himself and took a couple of breaths. "Pocket." He was able to wheeze.

Lyric slid her hand into Val's pocket and pulled out a silk purse and a bit of parchment sealed with wax. She slowly began to try and tug at the seal but he stopped her. "Neri Thorkill. Hashwounder. Thorkill Inn." He mumbled. Lyric felt puzzled for a moment until he pointed at the parchment. Scribbled on the outside was the name Neri Thorkill.

"She runs the Thorkill Inn in Hashwounder?" Lyric repeated with a mixture of statement and question. The man nodded. "That is due East yes?" He nodded again, the axe handle jiggling as he did. He began to choke and cough again, a fresh trickle of blood sliding from his mouth until it dripped into the soaked ground beneath his head.

"G....g...go...."

"Hush, hush, Val." Val gave a slight nod as Lyric sat beside him, her hand reaching down to clasp his tightly. She thought for a few moments, wondering why it was so important for her to leave immediately. Val seemed to be wanting her to leave right now but, if he had sent Sigil's daughter in the opposite direction, why would she need to leave for Hashwounder so quickly? She let her mind run through these questions until a cough and squeeze of her hand brought her back to the man dying beside her.

Val's face had gone pale, the blood leaking from his lips as bright as rose petals on snow. His chest was bouncing now, urgency written in every breath as he labored and choked. This was no slow death. He was wounded beyond help but he was slowly drowning in his blood. The pain and fear must be agonizing for him. "Val...I can't help you. I think that you are dying." She heard herself say. She could have run a sword through her gut for how detached and uncaring she sounded.

"Ta...ke....out." His hand lifted from his side and indicated the axe. Lyric was a small girl, short, thin. His axe stood taller than she. It had to be heavier than anything she had ever lifted or could lift in her life and he wanted her to pull it out. The sight of his blood slowly dribbling down his side brought tears to her eyes. He was a good man, a great soldier, he didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve the pain he was in. She was the only one around that could relieve him from it and she was unsure she possessed the physical strength to get the job done.

Lyric stood from his side and took hold of the axe, wrapping her hands around it tightly, intending to pull it free. Just as she was about to give it a good, hard yank, Val shook his head. Lyric looked down at him and watched. He slowly brought his pale, shaking hands up, making a motion as to say push from underneath. Lyric repositioned herself, her palms on the underside of the axe as she looked down at her dying friend. Tears ran down his cheeks as he took a shuttering breath. "M..my songbird. Teach me to sing and I'll teach you to fly." The words left his lips with the last bit of strength he had.

Stooping down, Lyric put her body beneath the handle and pushed up with her legs. At first, there was nothing but, as the axe handle began to give way, Val cried in pain. She wanted to stop but knew that would only cause him more agony. Her knees struggled, shook, her arms wobbled but she was able to force the axe handle up and away from the man. There was a sickening squelch, a sucking sound and a crack as bone broke and blood poured from the wound.

The heavy weapon fell to the dirt beside the man, his body shivering for only a moment before it lay still. Lyric sank back down beside her friend, tears pouring from her eyes. Guilt washed over her, slamming against her chest with a force so great that she nearly toppled over. If she hadn't killed that man, Val wouldn't be dead. This homestead wouldn't have been burnt to the ground and none of these people would have lost their lives.

Lyric's eyes ran over the ruins that used to be her home. The stables and barns had been left alone but the house was gone. It lay in a heap of ash with what remaining supports, cradled in it's soft hands. The house had been large, multiple stories, the kitchens alone taking up the majority of the basement area. The remaining area belonged to storage and the washing maids. Most of the servants stayed in the two smaller houses behind the main home. Both were still standing, though the flames had done enough damage to make them unsafe.

Bodies littered the yards, none quite reaching the fields. It looked as though they all came rushing in to fight. There was no doubt in Lyric's mind that all of these men came to protect the women, children, and her master. He was a good master, the vast majority of them loved working under him. That's when the realization hit Lyric. There were no female bodies or children. These were all men. Most were men that worked the fields, the rest were the Master's guards. As she looked around, she noted the absence of the master himself. Maybe he had survived.

Lyric pulled herself to her feet. There were far too many bodies for her to bury alone. Lyric saw the silk pouch and bit of parchment laying in the dirt beside Val's body. Val's handwriting was fast but neat. Neri Thorkill. Scooping up the letter and purse, Lyric tucked it into her pocket and looked at the bodies surrounding her. Hashwounder was a fair ways away. She wouldn't make it tonight and staying here wasn't an option. She looked around for a moment and saw that the weapons had been left with their owners. Robbing the dead wasn't really on her list of things she wanted to do but, she didn't have a choice.

Lyric walked around, murmuring her need for forgiveness as she removed a few essential things from the bodies. After she had a cloak, sword, waterskin, and a small pouch of dried biscuits and berries on her belt, Lyric swung herself onto her horse and looked back at what used to be her home, her life.

She had often wondered about the life of travelers, roaming the country with nowhere in particular to go and no one to go home to. It seemed lonely but, what was loneliness to her now? The only home she had known was gone. Her only friend and suitor, lay dead in the dirt. The land's most fearsome warrior was after her for revenge, likely thinking to kill her as soon as she spots her. Her life, was over. Her world was changed. Loneliness was about to become her guardian and fear, her only savior.